The Long Search
by Laina Inverse
Summary: Sulvhe Lavellan, mage of the Inquisition, has been looking for her sister for a very long time. She has no idea where to start, and with the Inquisition and the Breach, she no longer can look as freely as she had. A series of connected one-shots, involving the people of the Inquisition.
1. Chapter 1

Haven was not her favorite place at the moment. Haven was too full of shemlen and people who stared. Haven was too full of the people who looked at her and looked up to her and thought of her as some glorious herald for their Chantry.

Sulahn'vhenan Lavellan—or Sulvhe, for short—mage of the Inquisition and 'Herald of Andraste' according to many, pulled the pillow over her face and closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out sight and sound. She had been feeling restless for a while now... ever since returning from that mess in Redcliffe with the mages. No one except Solas had really seemed to approve of that choice. Well, all right, and Dorian. Not so much the rest.

_Cullen_ had snipped at her over it, but then, he had been a Templar. He had valid concerns, but taking the mages prisoner wouldn't have done anything but make them _more_ likely to get possessed in a bid to tear their captors to pieces! There had been no right way to go about it, really... she had done what she had thought was right, hoping that one of these mages might be her lost sister.

The Dalish elf muttered under her breath in a few remembered elvish curses and shoved her pillow aside, then threw her blanket after. There was no way she was getting any sleep now, so she might as well go for a walk to clear her head and calm down.

She bound back red-gold hair from blue eyes the color of fire's heart, and found a nondescript cloak that would be warm and covering. Next came the fur-lined boots and gloves, and the scarf she tucked into her shirt to help keep the chill off her neck. She hadn't bothered changing out of her armor; it was warmer than anything else she wore, and Haven was _so_ cold. And since the armor was actually quite comfortable, sleeping in it was only a little disconcerting.

Like when the scale edges caught on the blanket and tore it. Fortunately, she was good with a sewing kit. And thankfully, no one was likely to look at the underside of her blanket since she was sleeping on her own in the house near the gate.

Which made it easier to slip out, actually.

The gate wasn't locked at night; there were people who bunked outside the walls, but came in to sit and eat, drink and gossip in the tavern, so locking them would have been pointless. And they were surprisingly lightweight doors, easy enough for her to push one open, and step out beyond the walls, then head down the path towards the lake.

"Huh. Wonder where she'd headed off to..."

Iron Bull looked up from his ale at the sound of his second's voice. Krem was looking not at the fire they were parked around, but at a lone figure walking away from the camps and the people. It wasn't hard to figure out who that figure was; the staff gave it away if nothing else.

"Maybe I should find out," he said after a moment, starting to get to his feet.

"I'd say let it wait a bit, chief," Krem said, holding up a cautionary hand. "Wherever she's going, it's probably she wants some space. This is a noisy lot, after all."

"True, but this close to the Breech, no one should go out wandering alone."

Krem smiled wryly.

"Maybe not, but she's got that mark on her hand, right? And she's a mage. She'll probably be fine."

Iron Bull thought about it, then settled back down, though he kept his eye on Sulvhe's retreating form. She had seemed pretty shaken up when she and that new fellow, Dorian, had reported on the future they'd born witness to. Maybe she did need some space.

Or maybe she needed someone to watch over her. He had noticed that she seemed very uncomfortable with people calling her Herald, or using respectful tones. He figured it was because she was Dalish, and admittedly, the Dalish almost never got respect like this. She had seemed most distressed though, when describing what had happened to himself and Varric... and then the conversation by his tent where she had jokingly offered to protect him.

He waited for ten minutes, finishing his ale in contemplative thought, then got to his feet.

"Don't drink yourself blind, Krem," he said a little jokingly as he passed the other man.

Krem said something pithy back, making several men roar with laughter. Iron Bull only snorted at him in amusement and headed off into the moonlit night.

It was a half-moon, but even without it, it wouldn't have been dark. The Breech cast an eerie green glow over the snow, which made it fairly simple to track the elf. While she hadn't left clearly defined footprints in the snow, there was enough of an impression to give him a direction.

"...you _could_ just look up, you know," she said a little tartly from over his head.

Iron Bull grinned and did as he was told.

She was silhouetted nicely against the cloudless sky, hood drawn back so that her ears could hear better, despite the cold. She was perched on a series of rocks that she had brushed clean of the snow, and the look on her face was resigned more than anything else.

He climbed up to sit with her, and decided that he would pretend to not see that she had been crying. As a friend, he probably ought to ask, but she had gotten enough scrutiny and scolding in the past few hours that he was willing to let it slide.

"What're you doing out here all alone?" he asked instead.

"Watching. Thinking."

Sulvhe drew her knees up to her chest, and focused her gaze once more on the Breech. As he watched, an eerie green light flickered across her palm, and she clenched her hand reflexively. Not even gloves could hide that glow.

"What about?"

"...my sister, actually," she admitted.

"You sister?"

"Mmm. I had a twin. Long time ago. We were traveling through the forests of Ferelden for a change of pace, and she got separated from us."

"How old was she?" he asked, cocking his head a little at her.

"I think we were both really young. Three or four. I barely remember her. But I don't think she's dead, despite what everyone else thinks. I was... hoping to find her at the Conclave. It's part of why I came."

"To try and find a sister you don't even know?"

She nodded. After a moment, he nodded too.

"I see."

"Are you going to send that back in a report to your superiors?"

Her voice was dry, and brittle. Something about it made him frown, and move a little closer to her.

"No, not unless you want me to. Maybe we can ask about, see if she made it to Seheron."

Sulvhe blinked, and looked up at him in surprise. Then looked away, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean for that to sound as harsh as it did."

"You've had a bad day,"he said with a faint, wry smile. "It's nice to know you're not all sweet and passive, anyways."

She glanced at him, trying to decide if he was serious or not. But at the words 'bad day' her expression became haunted enough that he moved closer and put a careful arm around her shoulders.

"So... what happened?"

Sulvhe sighed, and looked down, not protesting the arm. Iron Bull was surprisingly warm for someone who never wore a shirt. And he smelled... spicy. Subtly.

"You heard what happened," she said quietly.

"I heard the report you gave to Cassandra and Leliana, yes. But you broke off in a couple of places, and Dorian started talking to cover for you. So I'm pretty sure there's some things you left out. And before you get touchy again, I'm asking as the friend, not the Ben-Hassrath."

She _had_ been starting to get angry, and the clarification surprised her.

"Are we friends?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I'd like to be. You look like you could use one."

She was quiet for a long moment, then let out a shuddering sigh.

"It... it was just horrible," she finally said. "Red lyrium everywhere, growing from people, or... or people growing it. Fiona trapped like that, and... and you and Varric horribly affected by it. And what they'd done to Leliana..."

She shuddered, and leaned against him, and he reflexively tightened his arm around her, trying to give her a bit of comfort. He had thought the event had shaken her, yes, but not this much. The little elf plainly had a lot of control over her emotions, and even that control had been tested hard by what she'd seen.

"It's over, and you're... mostly safe," he said after a moment. "The magister is locked up, and the mages are on our side."

"Which upset almost everyone," she muttered, pouting just a little. "Even Cassandra, though she says she supported it."

It had annoyed him too, a little. Mages weren't to be treated like equals or allies. But on the other hand, _she_ was a mage. And so far, no demons had sprung from her to infect the rest of them. After a moment he just shrugged.

"You made a choice," he said. "Some people don't understand it, but support it because you're what we're rallying behind. Other people don't understand it and won't support it because they're scared. And some more will understand, even if they don't really approve of it. You made the choice you thought was best. It's put a weight on the mages; now they have to _prove_ they're worthy of being equals and allies, instead of just picking fight with the Templars."

It made her giggle a little, and he felt some of the tension ease out of her.

"So, tell me more about this sister of yours," he proposed, wanting to take her mind away from the darkness it had no doubt fallen to.

"I don't know much. I honestly don't. I just... have this sense that she's alive, and if I don't give up looking, I might find her one day."

"Well, why not tell me what you were told, or what you do know? Maybe I really can help you find her through some of my own Ben-Hassrath contacts."

Sulvhe looked up at him, blue eyes flickering slightly in surprise.

"Really?"

"It could happen," he grinned a little. "I'm not promising anything, of course, but who knows. Maybe we'll get lucky."


	2. Chapter 2

Everything hurt. That was the first thing she noticed. The second was the biting cold. Followed by more pain as she rolled, and ended up half-lying on her staff, with it's sharp poky bits digging into her.

She lifted her head slowly, hissing a little at the pounding. Being best friends with the trebuchet had certainly not been _her_ idea. Stupid Corypheus. Red Templars, a dragon, and people dying on her watch?

She moved slowly, as feeling returned to her body, and reflected a little bitterly on things. All Sulvhe had wanted to do from the get go was find her sister. That was it. Instead she'd apparently stumbled upon something bigger than her, bigger than _all_ of them. And she had the concussion, broken ribs, sprained wrists, pulled muscles and myriad bruises to prove it.

Well, there was _something_ she could do, at least. Healing wasn't her best skill, but she knew how to do it, and if she couldn't walk, she was going to have one hell of a time catching up with everyone else. And she _needed_ to catch up with them. If nothing else, they had to know their enemy, and what Corypheus had said. What he'd implied...

She gasped in pain as she made it to her knees, and then to her feet, an arm wrapped protectively around her middle while her other hand clung to her staff in a bid to stay upright.

"Heal Sulvhe," she muttered, teeth clenched against the pain that was trying to knock her over. "Can't walk if you can't heal..."

She pressed her hand to her ribs with a grimace, and cast the few healing spells she knew. The pain ebbed, but it was slower than normal, suggesting that she was more tired than she'd thought.

Slow or not, when she felt like she was capable of walking without falling over, she started. And wished she'd been caught in her armor instead of the more casual clothing she'd pulled on for the celebration. Should've known it wouldn't be so simple...

Sulvhe sighed a little. Hindsight was always the worse view on things. Should have/would have/could haves were troublesome enough on their own, but that sort of disaster couldn't have been predicted by _any_ of them.

Could it?

It was _much_ colder outside, in the wind that knifed across the mountain. There weren't many trees at this level to block the wind out, and she was still using her staff as a walking stick more than a weapon. She had tried, a couple of times, to call flame to her free hand, or to her staff, in a bid to warm up a _little_, but it was too much effort. The wind was sapping what strength the had left, and scouring away the footprints left by the hundreds of people who had fled Haven. She wasn't even sure if she was heading in the right _direction_.

But she kept going anyways. She would walk, she swore, until she could walk no further.

The landscape around her was a blur, and she was left with the discomfort of her own thoughts. Questions that circled in her brain about Corypheus. About what might happen if she died. Or if she didn't. About the sister she still desperately wanted to find. What would happen to her clan? Who would take her place as First to Keeper Deshana if she died?

When she found the dead fire, it was by walking right through it, her feet were so numb. But the coals were still warm, somehow. Just warm enough to send warning signals to her exhausted mind that she was in danger of getting hurt.

She jumped out of the ashes, and almost fell over, then looked blearily down at the remnants of the fire. It was still warm? She crouched slowly, holding tightly to her staff, all but out of energy, and extended a hand towards the ashes. It was, but only just barely. Probably not at all helped by her walking through it.

Well, at least she was on the right path.

Ahead looked to be a canyon. Maybe the wind would die down enough for her to find some warmth of her own...

Painfully she hauled herself back upright, hand over hand with her staff as a brace. She was so cold. So tired. If she wasn't close to the people of Haven, she was probably going to die on this mountain top. And that was a sad thought. No more talks with Solas about the memories of the Fade. No more laughing over Varric's jokes, or asking Cassandra questions about the Seekers. No more fascinating stories from Leliana, or interesting inside knowledge about the Templars from Cullen. No more information about the Wardens—though Blackwall tended to be close-mouthed on that subject anyways—no trying to figure out if Dorian was being serious or sarcastic. Or both.

No more chances to find her sister...

"There!" the words came dimly to her ears, as her strength gave out, and she pitched headlong into the snow. It sounded like Cullen, though. "There she is!"

"Maker have mercy..." And that was Cassandra.

It was also the last voice she heard, as the darkness swallowed her up.

"Give her to me."

It wasn't a demand, but it wasn't something he was asking either. Sulvhe looked too cold, too close to death for Iron Bull to ask politely.

"Why?" Cassandra demanded.

"Because she's too _cold_, Seeker," he said irritably. "And if she's not warmed up, she'll _die_."

"He's correct," the healer said softly. "She's taken care of her physical energies, but she is _so_ cold. We have to warm her up carefully."

"How do you even know this?" Cassandra didn't look inclined to back down. Bull sighed impatiently.

"I'm observant. And I _listen_. The only way to safely warm her up right now is to surround her with warm bodies, and if we don't do it fast, we're likely to _lose_ her."

"Don't argue, Cassandra," Leliana said, preempting the Seeker's irritated response. "Let him do it. He's still warm, even in _that_, so he can probably help her to warm up enough to save her life."

Given that _that_ was his leather harness and loose pants, both terribly unsuited to Haven and the Frostbacks in general, Cassandra had to concede the point. Iron Bull didn't wait for verbal permission; he scooped Sulvhe up, and took her back to the large tent that was for him and a few of the Chargers.

None of them asked stupid questions, though Krem's eyes widened at the sight of Sulvhe's bruises. They just stripped out of armor, and most clothes, grabbed some of the blankets they'd salvaged as part of their gear, and surrounded the elf and the qunari in as much careful warmth as possible.

Iron Bull was not one to wear his emotions on his face; ten years of Ben Hassrath training at controlling his expression meant that one had to know him _very_ well to guess at how worried he was. But he was _very_ worried. He _liked_ this little elf with whom he'd fought a dragon. He liked their late night chats, even if she didn't drink that much. He liked knowing about her clan, about her thoughts, and how she worked. Hell, he just plain liked _her_, and he didn't want her to die.

It took hours for her to warm up. Putting warm bodies on either side of her under and over the blankets, and rotating when someone got chilled. Coaxing a few drops of warm drinks down her throat. Warm soup. Her color improved, slowly but surely, her raspy breathing eased back into something more natural. Bull was not inclined to let her go until he was absolutely certain, however, that she would be just fine.

It wasn't just the Chargers either that helped. Though both Cullen and Cassandra were too uncomfortable with the idea of laying in a semi-nude pile to help warm Sulvhe, others of the group were less hesitant. Even Sera was willing to help, despite complaining that her own tits were already frozen in this weather, so she wasn't sure she'd be much good.

When Sulvhe finally slept easily, Bull allowed Cassandra and Mother Giselle to take her back to the healer's tent, sighing a little in relief... but also in concern. She had yelled at them to move, told them to get out of the way of the dragon and the thing with it. What had happened to her?

He wished that he'd stayed.


	3. Chapter 3

Someone had entered the cave. And she looked _nothing_ like Hawke...

Alistair circled silently, blessing the hours he'd worked on this with various people. Quietly he drew his sword, ready to attack if the person stepped into the light enough to see.

She did. And he froze. It _couldn't_ be...

"...Nymeria?"

The elven woman blinked a couple of times, in pure, blank confusion, and his brain caught up with him. Nymeria's hair was longer, and a few shades darker. She had referred to it once as one of the few things she was vain about. But Maker, the shape of her face, the curve of her ears... even the blue of her eyes was damn near to identical.

"Are you Alistair?" she asked.

Her voice made him jolt a little, and he brought his sword back up, though it was nowhere near as threatening. The similarities were just too much for him to pull it off. She even _sounded_ like his missing love...

"Alistair, wait!" Marielle Hawke, nicknamed Lady by everyone, rushed to get between them, holding her hands out placatingly. "It's all right! This is Sulvhe Lavellan, the Inquisitor!"

"The..."

Not Nymeria. But so close in looks as to blindside him. If it hadn't been Hawke, he would have suspected a Warden trap... Slowly, he lowered his blade, then sheathed it.

"My apologies," he said wearily. "It's been a very trying trip, and you look..."

He shook his head a little. He missed Nymeria so much. But she needed to be where she was. And he needed to focus. There were things about Corypheus that both Hawke and the Inquisitor needed to know.

It was not the reaction Sulvhe had expected. Of course, meeting _the_ Alistair, hadn't been expected either. It probably should have been, but it wasn't. She listened dutifully while Alistiar explained everything he'd found, everything that was going on with the Wardens. A small part of her wondered if Blackwall was hearing the Calling too. He'd never mentioned it to her... But then, she'd also gotten the feeling that Blackwall was hiding something. Maybe he was, and just didn't want to worry her...

"We should go to the Western Approach and stop this from spreading further," Lady Hawke said quietly.

Sulvhe nodded, but hesitated to follow the dark haired human out of the cave.

"...Alistair? Can I ask you soemthing?"

"I need to pack some of this up anyways," he said after a moment, offering a half shrug. "Go ahead."

"It's... you're the second person to say I look almost identical to the Hero of Ferelden. Leliana was the first..." Sulvhe fidgeted uncertainly. "See, half the reason I went to the Conclave was because I wanted to find my sister. We were separated at a very young age by an accident in our clan. I... I was told she was my twin. And..."

"The resemblance to Nymeria _is_ uncanny," Alistair admitted slowly, studying her. There was a pained look in his eyes, a wistful tone in his voice; Sulvhe made a mental note to ask Cole what Alistair was thinking when they got back to camp. "She's said that she doesn't remember much about life before the Circle of Magi. Her hair is the best tie back to her family that she can remember... long, and in a complicated looped braid. She says that's how her mother used to wear it."

Sulvhe nodded a little, heart briefly jumping up in her throat.

"I... I don't really remember much either. My clan had close ties to clan Lavellan, though, which is how I got lucky enough to be taken in by them. Or, well, I was visiting with one of my aunts, and then they got news that everyone from my old clan was... dead. Or missing. Nehnmarevas was missing."

Alistair cocked his head a little.

"...how _old_ were you?"

"Two... ish. We were still learning how to talk. I don't remember too much; when I was older I got the full story, and I was told that I cried a lot when I wasn't taken back to my parents after a while."

"Hmm... young enough that you probably couldn't say your full names pretty well, despite knowing them," he mused as she packed away maps and things; no point in letting the other Wardens know where he was going. "It wouldn't be hard to turn... How did you say it?"

"Nehnmarevas."

"Nehn mare vas... I could see how that could be clipped into Nymeria, given enough time."

Sulvhe's heart jumped into her throat again, and Alistair's smiled was quick and amused, if again a little sad.

"She looks like that sometimes too," he said softly. "Maybe it's jumping to conclusions based on appearance, but... it might not be. Knowing Leliana, she's probably got some people who can contact Ny. If you can, try and get a note of your own out to her. I know Ny's wondered about her origins more than once. It can't hurt to try."

Sulvhe nodded, both excited and apprehensive.

"Thank you, Alistair. We'll see you at the Western Approach."

Sulvhe had brought Cole to the meeting for his abilities, his skill at picking up thoughts of people. Yes, it was strange, and somewhat unnerving at times, but Cole himself wasn't actually doing anyone harm. He was a lot like a young child, really; still trying to figure out where and how he fit into the world.

He looked up from the fire, and nodded at her a little.

"He saw you and his thoughts filled with her," he said quietly, without Sulvhe needing to ask. "Hair that glimmered with fire colors, smelling of vanilla, eyes so bright a blue as to almost be the sky, but not. A soft voice, wide, wide naïve eyes. Lots of longing; he hates the distance between them. He misses her. He does think you might be family. He's not sure what to think about that."

"To be honest, neither am I," Sulvhe admitted. "Thanks Cole. I'm grateful that you told me."

"You needed to know."

Sulvhe smiled a little at him, and headed into her tent. She had a note to write for Leliana, so that maybe she could get in touch with the Hero of Ferelden. Who might, after all these years, be the sister she'd been seeking.


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Inquisitor;_

_ I'm sorry I can't be there in person to help you. Or meet you, even. Please make sure Alistair gets the letter in your hand, I would very much appreciate it._

_ Corypheus is a problem, I won't lie. If I could, I would come to aid you, but if I let these leads go now, I risk losing the trail I'm on, and... And I just can't do that. If there's a way to end the Calling, I need to find it. I'm sorry. These items are the best I can do._

_ Please, look out for Alistair if you can. Or tell Lady Hawke to watch out for him. He presents a strong face, but I know that, like me, when we're apart he suffers a bit for it. Humor is his defense, and his life hasn't been an easy one, so when the bad jokes come out, it means he's hurting. Please, if you can, just... watch out for him. He's not as strong as he wants you to believe._

_ ….though of course, he'll probably protest me saying that. Don't tell him I did._

_ On... on that personal note, however._

_ Leliana's letter mentioned the similarities. I don't know if she's told you, but she said that at first she thought you were me, and wasn't pleased with how Cassandra insisted you be treated. Even after, when she knew the truth, she says she keeps catching herself thinking of you _as_ me. Which, I'll be honest, is a bit disconcerting to read. _

_ For myself... I don't know. I honestly don't. I have some very very dim memories of my mother, but I've been part of the Circle of Magi since I was about five. I showed my magic very early, and a Templar who had found me turned me over. That's what I was told, anyways. No one really knew where I'd come from, just that... that I was very talented. If not for becoming a Warden, I would probably have gone to serve as a healer somewhere..._

_ If you are family... It's a prospect I'd honestly given up searching for. I could never find a clan Surana, and I always thought my name wasn't very... elven. Nehnmarevas, huh? It's a bit of a mouthful. I've been Nymeria for so long, I don't think I can be anyone else._

_ Ah. Tangent. Sorry. I'm nervous._

_ If I get the chance, I would love to meet you. I don't know when that'll be, but I'm sure there will be one. And maybe I'll even have good news for the Wardens. I hope I will._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Nymeria Surana_

_P.S. Don't get Alistair started in on cheese jokes. He will go for _hours_._

Sulvhe read the letter again. And again. The words were neatly formed, despite some blotches that implied haste. The items Nymeria had sent had been distributed to her friends as needed. The letter to Alistair was tucked into an inner pocket of her armor, waiting to be taken to the Warden in question.

Finally she sat back in her chair, and started blankly out the window of her refurbished quarters as she debated the idea of writing another letter to the Hero of Ferelden. But what else could she say to a women she'd never met? She'd already sent a note of tentative greeting, mentioning everything she'd been told about their resemblance, and this was what had come back for her.

Maybe she ought to talk to Bull? He'd become a very good friend recently, and he'd also been asking about her sister...

She leaned the chair back a bit further and sighed.

No, Bull had enough troubles of his own on his mind. That whole mess with the qunari alliance falling apart, and him becoming Tal Vashoth had hit him pretty hard. She had been trying to give him space because of it. As much as she had come to care about him, and... as oddly nice as 'riding the Bull' was, she did tend to wonder if he'd made the offer for her, or for himself.

A little frustrated with herself, she opened a drawer to look at the dragon's tooth necklace she'd put together, but hadn't yet given him. It just didn't seem right to give it to him now, not when he still felt the sting of being denounced by his people.

She closed the drawer and got up, walking out to her balcony. She was just too anxious about all of this, really; being Inquisitor put her under a lot of pressure, this new relationship with Bull that was not _quite_ what she wanted, but she knew she wanted to be with him, dealing with whatever it was Corypheus was coming up with, possibly meeting her sister... And even if not, meeting the _Hero of Ferelden_, which was definitely a big thing.

Sulvhe groaned, and let her head drop to the railing, then looked at her hand. The mark was quiet, tamed, invisible when she wasn't near a Fade Rift. Sometimes she wished she'd never been granted the mark in the first place, despite the amount of good it had done her. She was inclined to go with extremely bad luck, despite what everyone else believed. What else explained it?

It was cold enough outside that she retreated back in, closing the door behind her, and flopped back into her chair. And read the letter yet again.

It had been a week since he'd initiated that encounter. She had _said_ she'd liked it, but there had been something in the way she'd said it that had made him wonder if she was being honest. Nervous but pleased was all right, nervous and uncertain made him want to ask questions. But she'd sidetracked him by asking what qunari did to make their intentions clear.

Which had also confused him a little, since he was used to keeping things light and casual. Sex was one of the things the other races seemed to hold as an ideal for expressing love, which he honestly thought was odd, but could be worked with. Was it that she hadn't expected sex from him? Perhaps he had misjudged the flirtatious comments...

Of course, she hadn't come down to see him since that talk. And the mess with the qunari alliance. He wondered if she blamed him. She _had_ said there was a way to recoup the losses of his Ben Hassrath reports, and she had seemed more... worried about him than about the reports at all.

"Chief, you look as blue as the sky," Krem said, sliding over a bottle. "You _could_ just go talk to her, you know."

"Yes, I probably could," Iron Bull agreed, pouring the ale into a cup. "But I'd rather she come talk to me first."

"You might be waitin a while then. Last I heard, she was thinking of setting out for the Western Approach soon. Varric suggested it since he seems to be worried about that Hawke girl."

Bull sat up a little straighter in surprise.

"When did you hear this?"

"About an hour ago. I don't think they're leaving today, at any rate, but-"

Krem hid a faint grin as Iron Bull put his drink down and got to his feet. Sometimes the big lug just needed as swift kick in the ass to make him do something like this. Besides, he liked Sulvhe. Other than the initial hiccup at discovering he was female-bodied, she had continued to treat him like always. Occasionally confiding, occasionally just watching and laughing, and always very curious about what sorts of jobs the Chargers went on.

She and the Chief were a bit of an odd pair, but he had the sense that they could be good for one another, if they could just figure out where they were coming from, and how they wanted to handle things.

Krem watched as Bull strode off, and only chuckled when the qunari was out the door. Bull probably knew what Krem was doing at that, but it gave him the excuse he needed. And that was all right.

He checked her quarters last, since normally she could—and _did—_trace a random path around Skyhold, talking to people and doing things. But if she'd been at all restless today, she'd confined it to her room, apparently. That was a bit disheartening, as he'd hoped to... 'help' with any restlessness issues she might have, after all.

And there was something fun about watching her while it happened.

He pushed open the door to her quarters quietly; some instinct telling him to walk soft, just in case. He was glad he did when he made it up the stairs. She was half-sprawled on her desk, passed right on out. If anything she looked like she'd been in the middle of trying to write a note, or a letter; there were crumpled balls of paper on the floor, and a pen still in the open inkwell.

He shook his head a little, and moved around the desk to carefully pick her up. She didn't even stir, which suggested that she'd been up later than usual, and not doing anything fun at that. He glanced at the letter set somewhat neatly on the desk, but didn't read it; a Ben Hassrath report was one thing; this was private. If she wanted him to read it, she would ask him to.

He stifled a sigh; that was one thing he was going to miss, being able to pass on those reports to her and Red. It also meant he couldn't help her find her sister. She'd _said_ it was fine, she had gotten a lead of her own back when she'd gone to Crestwood and left him behind for a break, but he wasn't so sure. He was also, maybe just a _little_ miffed still that she had taken that spirit thing, Cole, along with Varric and Solas and not him.

He settled her in the bed, and tucked the blanket around her, at which point she did stir a little, murmuring something unintelligibly in her sleep. Despite his concerns, he smoothed some of her hair out of her face before moving away. It was one thing to be invited to her bed—or invite her to bed, since he could see that she badly needed a place where someone else was held to somewhat lofty expectations—but it was entirely another to invite himself when she wasn't awake enough to say yes or no.

But at the same time, he didn't want to leave her on her own, not when she was looking so... vulnerable. Maybe there was something on the shelves that could keep him occupied until his little elf finally woke up...

Sulvhe stirred a little around sundown, mostly because there was a chilly breeze blowing through her room, brushing across her face. She half sat up, then paused as she wondered when she'd gotten into bed. The last thing she recalled was...

Movement at the edge of her peripheral vision had her reacting before she thought, rolling out of the bed and casting the first ice spell to come to mind. There was a grunt of surprise from her target, a clear sign that she'd hit, and she yanked her staff out from under her bed... then blinked a few times as Bull stared down at his feet, than back at her, his expression so neutral she couldn't help wondering if he was angry, or trying not to laugh.

"...sorry," she said meekly, waving a hand and de-icing his feet sheepishly. "You surprised me."

"...good reflexes those," he said after a minute, lifting a foot and carefully wiggling it. "Even here in this stone pile, you have to be careful."

It was a sobering reminder that he'd asked her to come meet him on the wall, only to watch—and be upset about—him handling the two assassins sent after him.

"What... brings you up here?" she asked, leaning her staff against the wall now that she knew she wasn't in danger. She didn't _need_ it to protect herself, no, but it was still nice to have around.

"Krem says he heard you talking about going to the Western Approach. Were you?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I'm hearing bad things all over.I'm hoping Hawke and Alistair can wait until I've dealt with a couple, but..."

But that couldn't be it. She eyed him after a minute, a little worried now. She knew it showed on her face, no point in trying to hide that, at least. Bull sighed a little, and moved to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"You haven't talked to me in a week," he said after a moment. "Other than a very mild hello the other day. What's up?"

"I'm... I don't know. It's confusing." She was quiet, shifting nervously from foot to foot as she weighed her words. "I... I really like you, Bull. I could love you, even. I just... I don't know."

Warmth slid through him. She could love him. That was nice to hear.

"Talk to me," he suggested, patting the bed lightly. "Maybe we can make it less confusing together."

Obediently, she moved to perch on the bed, and he casually draped an arm around her shoulders, taking care to not make her feel as though she was pinned. She fidgeted a little under the weight, but settled after a moment, leaning against him shyly.

"My... My mother's clan was killed when I was really small. Two, maybe three at best. I was taken in by clan Lavellan, my aunt's clan. Keeper Deshana trained me in my magic, and... and I really miss it, honestly. It wasn't an amazing life, but a lot of friends and family are in that clan. Both blood and not, and... and yet..."

"Sometimes you didn't quite fit?"

She nodded a little; she was used to him being able to finish her sentences at this point. He really was a lot more observant about things than she'd ever expected, even with the information about him being a spy.

"Sometimes... I still don't fit. Not here," she looked down at her hands. "I don't know."

He hugged her, very lightly, and waited. Sulvhe had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous, but he could typically pick out the thread of conversation if he listened well enough.

"I... I like the..." she blushed crimson, "sex. It's... it's nice, but... But I don't know if that's really... what I need?"

He cocked his head a little, and she seemed to shrink a little.

"You want something more emotional than physical," he said after a moment, picking up cues from her body language and tone of voice. "But you don't mind the physical aspect?"

She shook her head a little, still entirely too tense for his liking. Like she expected...

Like she expected him to get up and walk off.

It was puzzling. Why would she think that would bother him? The qunari didn't have sex for love the way these other races seemed to. It wasn't part of the Qun. Sex was for procreation... and occasionally, appreciation. So, that wasn't likely to be it. Perhaps...

Ah. Of course. When she had wanted to ask about where their relationship was, he'd given her a casual answer. It had probably seemed like a brush off to her, someone who had been abandoned already, though not through any fault of her family.

The silence had stretched too long for Sulvhe's comfort, and she wriggled out from under his arm, and moved over towards the desk. The letter from Nymeria was still where she'd left it, as were all her crumpled up attempts at writing back, just wanting, in some small way, to get a dialogue with the Hero of Ferelden going. Even if she _wasn't_ kin, but especially if she was.

"Sulvhe."

She looked up, tense, afraid, wanting to go and be held again, but too uncertain of herself to be willing to put herself in a position for close-contact rejection.

"We fought a dragon recently, didn't we?"

She blinked, then nodded.

"Did you manage to get a tooth from its head?"

Again she nodded, feeling a flicker of hope rising in her throat.

"Do you have it on you?"

"Ah..." she blushed a little, and looked down. "Actually..."

Before she could change her mind, she pulled open the top drawer of her desk, and pulled out the tooth. It had been split, and smoothed so that neither of them would suddenly have dragon tooth splinters in their skin, and strung on metal and leather; everite and Halla leather, to be specific. She approached shyly, and offered it to him.

"I um... I had it split. SO that... that wherever life takes us, we're never _really_ apart. I just... I didn't know. I wasn't... _sure_... if it was... if you'd..."

He reached out, and pulled her onto his lap, making her squeak.

"I said I wanted to make you very comfortable," he said quietly, amused, and more than a little touched and pleased. "Are you comfortable, kadan?"

"K... Kadan?" she squeaked a little, shivering involuntarily as he slipped the leather around her neck and tied it carefully.

"Mmm. Kadan. My heart."

She blushed, and hid her face in her hands. He chuckled a little, kissed her forehead, and pulled on his half, then held her very gently until she stopped crying. He didn't need to be told that they were tears of joy.


	5. Chapter 5

"Um... Leliana? Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, Inquisitor. What can I do for you?"

Sulvhe fidgeted a little nervously, then perched on the edge of the chair.

"I was... wondering if you could tell me about the Hero of Ferelden. Nymeria."

Leliana smiled, and nodded.

"You think she might be your sister?"

"I don't know. Everyone else who's met her seems to think it's possible, though."

The spymistress laughed, and nodded.

"I must admit, it was very disconcerting to see you chained up, looking like my old friend. Though I realized quickly that you weren't, the resemblance is remarkable."

"How did you know?" Sulvhe asked.

"Alistair wasn't there," Leliana smiled knowingly. "Nymeria and Alistair were together in a sense even before they made it to Lothering. I think the Maker put him there for her, to have someone she could hold on to when the trials of saving Ferelden were too much."

Curious more than nervous, Sulvhe cocked her head a little, as Leliana gathered her thoughts.

"You have to understand that Nymeria was part of a Circle of Magi, from early childhood. The world outside of the Circle was very big, and at the moment, very dangerous. She was sweet, and naïve, and sometimes stupidly brave. I don't mean to offend, but I would follow her again in a heartbeat if I could."

"No offense taken," Sulvhe smiled ruefully. "Sometimes I think it'd be better if someone else was leading."

"You are very much like her, even though you've never met," Leliana said, her tone thoughtful. "Downplaying skills and abilities was something she did so very well. She had this... need to make people better; even Wynne couldn't match her for healing, and Wynne was one of the best in the Tower, according to Nymeria. But she never liked to be in charge. I think she tried to make Alistair lead a couple of times, but when he wasn't able to, she allowed herself to be drawn into the role."

Sulvhe had to giggle, just a little. Leliana chuckled a bit herself.

"Oh, it was something to watch. And it was good to see her gather so many people around her who could help strengthen her. Especially when it came to dealing with the Deep Roads."

"What... what happened in the Deep Roads?"

"At the time we arrived, hoping to use the Grey Warden treaties to get help from the dwarves, they were in the middle of a fight for succession. Both sides courted her as a way to break the stalemate, and Nymeria... was not built for politics. Going directly _in_ to the Deep Roads was worse. You know Grey Wardens can sense the Darkspawn, yes?"

Sulvhe nodded.

"The Archdemon was down there. First sight of it any of us had been given. To say she was terrified would have been an understatement," Leliana sighed a little, and shook her head sadly. "Poor thing. And seeing the Broodmother..."

Now she shuddered.

"You _don't_ want to know, trust me. It came out well in the end, but all of us were so happy to be back out in the sunshine that we all agreed never to go back down into the Deep Roads unless there was no other choice. I still remember her face, so pale and afraid. Alistair really came through for her there."

"What... what did he do?"

"That was about the time he finally admitted that he really _did_ care for her," Lelia's expression lightened. "Though he asked the most awkward questions, and usually while she was within earshot. It was very amusing. When he asked me for advice, I told him that she just needed him to be himself. He didn't really believe me, but he did drop it after that. At least with me he did."

"Dare I ask?"

Leliana laughed.

"He was almost as naïve as she was when it came to romance and relationship matters. Starting off a question by asking if I was a woman was normal for his fumbling conversations. It was also fairly cute, for Alistair. And he was very lucky to earn her love, I think."

"D... do you know how she became a Warden?"

"I do! She told me the story after we dealt with the trouble in Redcliffe, Her friend was imprisoned there, for teaching Connor magic without... well, you met Connor, right? On the Redcliffe docks?"

Sulvhe nodded, and looked down at her lap briefly.

"He blamed himself for everything that happened in the castle," she said. "He felt so bad about being back in Redcliffe."

"It wasn't his fault, and Nymeria was very adamant about that when she spoke to the boy, but..." Leliana shook her head a little. "Nymeria met her recruiter, Duncan, after she had passed her Harrowing. Her friend Jowan asked for her help in destroying his phylactery, so that he and a sister of the Chantry could leave the Tower. He'd heard rumors he was going to be made Tranquil, and he wanted to make a life for just the two of them. Unfortunately, the rumors were true, but she didn't find out until after that shed let a blood mage go free.

"Still, Nymeria was too kind to really be angry. I think she was very disappointed in Jowan, and that did seem to cut worse, when she let him out of the dungeons. Anyways, after she let him go, the Kinght-Commander and the First Enchanter were both arguing about what to do with her when Duncan offered her a way out. She didn't want to take it, you see. The Circle was her life and her world. But since she'd had her Harrowing, they were unwilling to make her Tranquil, and there wasn't too much they could _really_ do, except maybe throw her in the mage prison. Duncan got her out of that."

Sulvhe nodded, fascinated.

"She saved my life once too, and... gave me a better example of how to deal with parts of my past," Leliana admitted with a rueful smile. "Nymeria really is a great hero, even though she never really seemed to think she was. Even that humility made her great to some people. I hope she does find a way to end the Calling. I would hate to lose a dear friend like that."

"What else did she do?"

"Well, you've heard of Zevran, yes? He was under contract to kill her, but after we defeated his group, she decided to spare him and let him join up. It helps that he was looking for a way out of the Crows at the time. And she definitely gave him that. From what I heard, he also ended up getting saved again, by Lady Hawke. I'll have to tease him about needing to be rescued so much the next time I see him."

Sulvhe giggled.

"Oh, and do you know the stories of Flemeth?"

Now Sulvhe nodded.

"My people call her Asha'belannar," the elf said with a little shiver. "Mostly in whispers."

"Well, one of our companions at the time was a woman named Morrigan, and her mother's name was Flemeth. I'm still not sure whether it's just a name,or if she is _the_ Flemeth of legend. But we met her. We retrieved a grimoire from her too, quite peacefully. Nymeria was never really sure if it was or wasn't, and had no desire to risk a fight that might get her killed. But that was her way too. She could talk down people, just by being sweet and a little naïve."

Leliana sighed a little.

"I knew even before we started looking for her that she wouldn't have come to the Conclave. Especially not alone. But I had hoped that she might, at least, be easier to reach than she was. Still, it is good that she is out of reach of Corypheus. I would hate to have to fight her. I'm surprised Alistair is doing well enough at ignoring Corypheus at that. I suppose that having someone to hold out for helps."

Sulvhe thought about it; there was still so much about the Wardens that she didn't understand, and Alistair, she'd noticed, was very good at deflecting questions with humor. He was a lot like Varric that way. Leliana tapped the table lightly, briefly, then nodded a bit.

"I think the thing you need most to understand about her is that her kindness and compassion were both her greatest strengths, and her direst weaknesses. She had no head for the political side of things in Orzammar, and I had to help her out quite a bit. Behlin was my choice, not hers, but it seemed the wiser choice. She is not someone who could play the Grand Game very well... but she is a good person, and one that is worth following, or even emulating at times."

Now Sulvhe nodded a little, and got to her feet.

"I should let you get back to work..."

"If you're interested in more stories, I'm sure Alistair would share," Leliana chuckled. "And Cullen too, if you're careful. Don't ask him about the Circle of Magi, but just about her. He used to be veeery fond of her."

Sulvhe blinked, processed this, then goggled a little.

"Is _that_ why he sometimes looks at me like... like..."

Leliana just smiled. Sulvhe made a slight face at her friend and spymistress, then headed down the stairs and out the second floor door, hearing the faintest sound of giggles behind her.

* * *

><p>"So, wait, let me get this right?" Alistair raised an eyebrow at her. "You want me, the person madly, deeply, truly in love with Nymeria to tell you about her?"<p>

"Preferably without puns, she said that you're especially not allowed to use the cheese ones," Sulvhe said, giggling a little.

"Of course she did, she knows how much fun my puns are, and doesn't want to have anyone else falling for me while she's away~"

Sulvhe giggled more; she could see why someone would enjoy Alistair's company. He really was a very odd human, more wry and sarcastic than anything else. He was not, of course, her Iron Bull, but she could see what could be attractive about him.

"I really do want to know. Can't you please?"

"But she's already restricted my ability to use puns!" he sighed dramatically. "How can I tell you anything properly without the use of puns?"

"You _could_ just answer the question directly instead of hedging around it," Sulvhe replied with a laugh.

"But where would the fun in that be?"

"Well, you'd get to talk about someone you plainly adore, and I could learn more about this person who could very well be the sister I've been seeking for so long."

"Oh, be _reasonable_, why don't you," he groaned jokingly.

"If you don't want to because you think it'll make you miss her more, you could also tell me that too," she pointed out.

"...now that's just frightening. I think she would have said precisely the same thing." He paused thoughtfully. "Or she would have out-waited me. She's very good at that. She turns those blue eyes on me and just waits for me to get it all out of my system. Sometimes she acted like she had all the time in the world, even though she doesn't, and has even kept the jokes going for longer."

Alistair chuckled a little and shook his head.

"She did that a lot. One of the very first things she said to me was that I was _very_ odd. Of course, she was also laughing at the time. And idiot me, I didn't realize who she was until she'd introduced herself. Not really a precedent you want to set when you're supposed to be escorting three potential Wardens out to gather things for the Joining. And in her case, it was actually more defensive. Wonderful healer, but her knowledge of combat was mostly theoretical. I... can't believe I'm admitting it, but it was good to have Morrigan around to teach her things like combat casting."

Sulvhe nodded a little, mentally filing away Morrigan's name; both Leliana and Alistair had mentioned her, which was probably something significant.

"She's... Nymeri'as not a fighter, first and foremost. She can be, if she has to be, but given an option, she would rather be anything else. I can't exactly blame her; fighting darkspawn is definitely an unpleasant task. I have to wonder how she would have fared in this mage-templar war madness..." he sighed a little. "Probably not very well. Look, are you _sure_ you want me to talk about her?"

Sulvhe nodded.

"I asked Leliana," the elf said. "And I'm going to ask Cullen too, if he'll talk about it. But you're... the one who would know her the best. You don't have to tell me everything. You don't even have to tell me _anything_, if you don't want too. I just..."

"You're just as curious as she is," he smiled ruefully. "Can't help yourself, poking and prying into everything, because you want to know, want to help, and need to know, in some cases. Just promise you won't turn me into a frog. Up here, there's bound to be one of Leliana's ravens waiting to swoop down on me, and swooping is bad."

Sulvhe laughed.

"I don't do transformation spells, no," she replied. "I much prefer to short out people's nervous systems with lightning, or freeze their feet to the ground."

Now _he_ laughed.

"I can just imagine people doing the Remmigold after being shocked by lightning!"

"The Remmigold?"

"You'd have to see it to believe it, but I'm not performing it for you. Nymeria would find it hilarious, but she's the only person I'm even remotely willing to embarrass myself in front of."

Sulvhe couldn't help but laugh again, shaking her head. It was clear she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of Alistair, but he was definitely fun to talk to. She needed fun; all the pressure of being an Inquisitor was difficult. That was half of what she enjoyed with Bull, was the chance to just... be. No responsibilities, no people... for a little bit she could just be herself.

She waved to Alistair, and resumed her walk along the walls while he grinned a little, and saluted her cheerfully off.

* * *

><p>"Inquisitor. Can I do something for you?"<p>

"...maybe?" Sulvhe chewed her lower lip a little nervously. "If you don't mind, anyways... I'd like to know more about... the Hero of Ferelden. Nymeria."

Cullen was quiet for several minutes, looking down at his desk, then sighed a little.

"Nymeria..." Longing flavored his words, and sadness. Regret. "She had a greater heart than anyone I've ever known, both during her time in the circle, and even during the Blight. When things... _happened_ in the Circle, I asked her to do something very unjust of me. And she said no, not because she wanted to punish me for my own foolishness, but because she truly believed that she could save everyone. Her compassion for people knew no bounds. Even the people that hated her."

"Hated her?"

"Well, she was a mage. And if you hadn't noticed, a lot of people fear and hate mages."

Sulvhe frowned.

"A lot of people fear and hate elves too," she pointed out. "They don't bother to understand, and what they do get is so horribly distorted and unfactual that it just makes things worse. And people are _also_ frightened of the Templars now, thanks to both the war, and what Corypheus has done."

Cullen held up his hands lightly.

"You're right, my apologies. Nymeria... Nymeria's compassion is so strong. I thought for certain she would hate me for what I'd become in these past years. How... bitter and angry, and hateful. But she sent me a note as well, telling me that no matter the injury to my heart, I had a strong center. Even now, even after hearing some of the things I've done, she still gives me the benefit of the doubt. She was always like that in the Circle. Many mages were jealous of her talents, and," he chuckled a little, shaking his head, "she always tried to downplay it, which they often saw as a false humility, worse than any arrogance. Her own friend was a mage named Jowan, and as far as I know, she never got angry with him either, despite him using and lying to her."

He sighed a little, and shook his head.

"She's...not perfect. People could, and did, walk over her because she didn't like asserting herself outside of healing classes. But I haven't met a person yet who could match her for an open heart. No offense, Inquisitor."

Sulvhe smiled a little.

"None taken. I really hope that when this is all over, I'll get the chance to meet her. I think I'd like that very much."


	6. Chapter 6

"I can't believe that actually worked..."

Alistair scratched his head a little, and chuckled as Hawke shook her head. Sulvhe just smiled, a little embarrassed. Varric looked like he was torn between being pleased, and being shocked.

"Which part?" the elf finally asked.

"Jars of bees, and jars of pitch?" Lady Hawke replied, raising an eyebrow.

Sulvhe blushed.

"It was a good idea," Varric chuckled a little, having settled on pleased. "One of the better cobbled-together 'get the hell out' plans I've had the joy of witnessing. Can I use it in my next book?"

Sulvhe giggled a little.

"Sure. Though what on earth would you use it for?"

"I'll think of something."

"Varric," Lady said warningly.

"What?" he protested. "It's just a story, nothing serious."

Lady just stared at him. Varric held up his hands in a laughing protest.

"Okay, 'mother', I'll be sure to be careful with the idea. Though I have to ask, what made you think of it, Sul?"

Sulvhe blushed slightly, and rubbed the back of her neck.

"I just wanted all of us to get out," she admitted. "and I hoped that we had the supplies."

"I would have bought us time," Hawke said quietly.

"Or I would have," Alistair admitted.

"But that's the point," Sulvhe replied. "I didn't want to sacrifice anyone. There's _always_ a way. And you both have people important to you, and reasons to stay alive. Honestly, it was mostly lucky that we even had the supplies..."

"What was it, something like five bee jars and half a dozen pitch bombs?" Varric asked.

"About that," she nodded slightly. "And... well, pitch burns very nicely. With the bees and the fire as a distraction, it seemed like a plausible way to get everyone home safely."

"So, your appallingly bad luck became appallingly good luck?"

Laughing, Sulvhe nodded.

"Pretty much. It helps that you three dropped some things on your way through, otherwise, I'd never have had the chance. So, your inability to hold on to your things helped save all three of us," she teased.

Varric placed both hands over his chest and reeled mockingly, making both women laugh, though Hawke's was arrested mid-giggle as someone very precious to her walked through the main doors.

"...Fenris..."

Alistair prudently moved out of the way in time to avoid being run over by Lady's rush towards her beloved elf. Sulvhe studied Fenris, blinked a couple of times, then smiled fondly as he not only returned the hug with interest, he picked her up, and just kissed her like his life depended on it. Sulvhe looked away after a few moments, blushing a little. Varric snickered a bit.

"He got here faster than I expected," the dwarf mused. "I'd bet he was already on his way, looking for her. She might've _tried_ to send him away, but when Fenris really wants something, he goes after it. Usually he leaves a trail of bodies behind him, but hey. Don't we all?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Sulvhe smiled, but it was a rueful one.

"You know," Alistair said thoughtfully. "I expect you're tired of all the comparisons between you and Nymeria at this point, but what you did there, in the fade? It's exactly what she would have done. Find a way for everyone to live... or barring that, take the thing on yourself, and don't say you weren't considering it."

Sulvhe blushed, and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. It was true, she certainly had been considering it. Varric shook his head with a dramatic sigh.

"Heroes. All the ones I've met are both reckless and self-sacrificing. Makes a guy think he can do better, sometimes."

Sulvhe blushed harder, but giggled. Alistair chuckled a little, and patted her on the shoulder.

"I have to get reports to Weishaupt, and I'm definitely not looking forward to it, but hopefully after everything is said and done, I'll be able to bring Nymeria here, to Skyhold. And I have no doubts that we'll definitely be celebrating your victory against Corypheus soon."

"Be careful on the roads. And with the other Wardens."

"Oh, I will. But it may ease a few minds to know that the Calling everyone hears is nothing more than Corypheus and that Nightmare demon, and maybe we can finally rally these people to step out and _do_ something to help instead of deciding it's not our fight." Alistair shook his head a little, and sighed, then smiled ruefully. "I'll try and send word back, if anything goes wrong, or comes up nasty. Hopefully it won't. Take care of yourself, Sulvhe."

"And you, Alistair."


End file.
